The Little Prince
by Myrielle
Summary: Aragorn declares Arwen the sole reason for his happiness and his little son takes him too seriously. Eldarion thinks that poor Uncle Legolas will be miserable unless he finds a wife as well, and thus decides that something must be done.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Not written for profit, and I certainly own nothing except for original characters.**

**Summary: Aragorn declares Arwen the sole reason for his happiness and his little son takes him too seriously. Eldarion thinks that poor Uncle Legolas will be miserable unless he finds a wife as well, and thus decides that something must be done.**

**The Little Prince**

It was night and as far as six-year-old Eldarion was concerned, all was well with the world. He had no idea that warriors in Far Harad were rumoured to be gathering, plotting some kind of raid on the borderlands between themselves and the reunited kingdom. Neither had he the slightest inkling that a foul giant spider named Shelob had recovered sufficiently from her wounds to attack the elves and men of Ithilien. Both his parents had decided that the heir to the throne was going to have as much of a childhood as possible. Aragorn in particular, had been adamant about that. He still remembered being bundled up on a horse, clutched in his fearful mother's arms and knowing somehow, that she might not be able to save them both. The day a child learnt his life was in danger was the day he began ceasing to be one. Hence, they both made a pact that Eldarion, and his future siblings, were not to be troubled by matters of the kingdom as far as it could be helped.

"Adar, carry on," the boy mumbled, tugging softly on his father's shirt. He was sleepy, but not so sleepy enough to miss his favourite part of the song. "Beren's about to see Luthien for the first time." A low rich chuckle rumbled in his father's chest and a gentle hand was laid on his head. "Nay, I am not sleepy," Eldarion spoke first, thus continuing a tradition that had begun scarcely a year ago. He would be on the brink of sleep, and then realize that his father had stopped the story or song. He would then insist he was as bright as a button and his father would indulge him until the next thing he knew, he was waking up to the soft crooning of his mother and the soft morning sunshine.

"You know this song well enough to sing it yourself."

"S'not the same." Eldarion smothered a wide yawn with the back of his hand and burrowed further into the warmth of his father's chest. "When you do it, it seems more real."

His child's words touched a deep chord within the king. "Aye, I'll sing it then." He opened his mouth but was interrupted by a question.

"Did she really look like Naneth?"

Luthien Tinuviel was the Morning Star, the pinnacle of Elvish beauty at its greatest glory. Arwen Undomiel was the Evenstar, a reflection of the former. Logically, Aragorn knew Luthien was fairer than his wife but it defied imagination to conceive of another more beautiful than she. Besides, the loyalty and love he bore her would not permit him to believe or say otherwise. "That she did, to my eyes at least. In that moment I understood how Beren felt."

He paused and looked down at his son. His eyes were almost closed, the long dark lashes lying almost against his cheek. He was his mother's son and would have been pretty except for the strong jawline and cleft chin inherited from his father. That and his dark hair, just a shade or two lighter than his mother's. "The light curled in her hair, and no shadow touched her. She glowed even under Rivendell's sun. It was a dream, one rare and lovely enough to make a man forget himself and hope for something he had no right to desire."

In spite of his eyelids that were getting heavier by the second, Eldarion managed to scoff. "Naneth chose you Adar. That makes you good enough. Besides, you are the King of Gondor and Arnor."

Aragorn bit back a grin. Arwen had coached her son well. "I was not king back then."

"But you were already on your way to being so."

His son was proving to be as ardent a supporter as Arwen. "Well your mother's support was crucial to this. I could not have done it without her love."

Eldarion's young ears pricked up at that. This was the first time he was hearing such a declaration from his father about his mother. "What about Lord Gimli and Uncle Legolas? Not to mention Misters Pippin, Merry, Sam and Frodo? And the great Wizard Gandalf? And Lord Boromir?"

Aragorn thought for a second. He couldn't very well tell Eldarion that his grandsire, whom the boy had never seen before, had expressly forbidden any union until the crown was set firmly on Aragorn's head. Only then would he be good enough for Arwen, barely. "Of course I needed their help too. But your Naneth's faith in me was what started me down that path with hope. It was a task I had to undertake but she made me believe it was possible, although the road was fraught with darkness and I could not see the way at times."

"Is Naneth the best thing to happen to you Adar?"

"Aye, and you are the second best thing. I can only hope that every man is as blessed in his choice of a wife and the child given him by Eru."

"A good wife is the key to happiness and success, Adar?"

Aragorn blinked. He was somewhat startled by the leap that Eldarion's mind had made but there was some truth to what the child was saying and Aragorn did not want to start a debate which would end with him being tired and Eldarion wide awake. "I suppose you could say that, yes."

"How come Uncle Legolas hasn't got a wife yet?"

That one certainly came out of the blue. Elessar Telcontar, renowned for his wisdom, close confidante of the lords of the realm, elf-friend, chieftain of the Dunedain, opened his mouth, closed his mouth, opened and then closed it again. This one needed to be carefully worded. "Why do you ask that?"

"Isn't Uncle Legolas three thousand years old?"

"Another fifty years and he will be. Again, what are you really saying with that question?"

Eldarion quickly weighed whether he ought to tell his father the whole truth and nothing but the truth. He decided to settle for the partial truth and see if he could get away with that. If it had been Naneth, all hope would have been lost. With Adar, especially at this hour, and stretched out comfortably in the great chair as he was, there was a very slim chance that he could get away with it. "Uncle Legolas is not as fortunate as you. You are much younger and found Naneth in a shorter time. He has had two thousand, nine hundred and fifty years and he still hasn't managed to find himself a good wife. He must be miserable."

Aragorn was going to protest but the words melted into laughter at his son's next sentence.

"No wonder he always goes around with Lord Gimli. No elleth or woman wants him." Eldarion sighed compassionately, pondering his honorary uncle's sad fate. "Why have you not helped him Adar? And why are you laughing? Surely you want Uncle Legolas to be as happy and successful as you."

With supreme effort, the King of Gondor mastered himself. He would share this with Arwen later and they could laugh together then. "There are some things a man must do by himself, my son. And your Uncle Legolas is determined to find a wife without any assistance." In actuality, the Prince of Eryn Lasgalen and the Ithilien Elves was perfectly content with his bachelor ways. Legolas, who would not run from Orcs unless there was no other choice, turned tail and fled the moment he realized he was in the presence of overly eager elleths. Aragorn doubted that his friend would be settling down anytime in the present Age.

"But sometimes, a man must admit that he needs some help and not be too proud to accept it. After nearly three thousand years, I think Uncle Legolas must confess he cannot do this on his own."

Biting the inside of his cheek to stifle his laughter, Aragorn nodded gravely and muttered an "Aye."

_See, even Adar agrees that Uncle Legolas needs help. _Eldarion felt a great sense of satisfaction and conviction settle in his chest upon receiving his father's agreement. Adar was never wrong unless Naneth said so, and since Naneth was not here to say so, it was understood that he had his father's support in this matter.

"You were at the part where Beren sees Luthien, Adar," Eldarion reminded his father. Fortunately, his father did as he expected; he began singing softly again and the matter of Uncle Legolas' woeful bachelorhood was forgotten. For once though, Eldarion's mind was not on the beauty of Tinuviel, or the enchantment she wove upon Beren.

The little boy was hatching a plan to deliver his beloved uncle from a miserable lifetime of singlehood into the blissful state that was wedded life. Even Eru and the Valar were on his side, for Uncle Legolas was arriving in two days for an extended visit. By the time he left, Eldarion decided, he would be married.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Not written for profit, and I certainly own nothing except for original characters. **

**Summary: Aragorn declares Arwen the sole reason for his happiness and his little son takes him too seriously. Eldarion thinks that poor Uncle Legolas will be miserable unless he finds a wife as well, and thus decides that something must be done. **

**The Little Prince**

**II. **

Eldarion knew the warm hand that touched his forehead was not his Naneth's. There was no sweet elvish song in Sindarin, which was all he understood at the moment, save for a smattering of Quenya that she had tried to make him learn. She always smelt wonderful, like an imperceptibly cool breeze wafting in under a hot summer sky, like rain on elanor and nephridil. And because he was only seven, he decided to be difficult. Firstly, he pretended to still be sound asleep, in spite of the insistent ruffling of his hair.

"Eldarion," came the soft dulcet tones that well concealed the gentle warning within.

Rolling over, the future heir of Gondor pulled up his thick coverlet and fairly smothered himself as he yanked it over his head.

"Prince," came the now exasperated voice. He could hear a smile in there somewhere.

"Go away," he mumbled as hands tugged the blankets away. He pushed his face into the feather pillows that littered his large bed. Next time, he was locking the door, Eldarion told himself.

"The sun has already risen and it is about high time that you do so yourself."

Eldarion growled sleepily as the pillow was nearly wrested from him. With all the strength he had, he snatched it back and pulled it over his head. "I want Naneth," he grumbled petulantly. "Go away, Eri."

Then, there was silence. For a moment, he wondered if he had gone too far. He could picture Erendis, or Eri as he had christened her when he had been two summers old, and her green eyes—so dark they were almost black—rimmed with hurt as she looked down at him. Her brown hair would be pulled back and knotted sensibly at the nape, all the better to help her chase him around the palace. He heard the sound of footsteps walking to the door and beneath the pillow, gulped slightly. Surely she would not have been hurt. Perhaps he would apologise later—

A pillow landed soundly on his behind and Eldarion jumped up with a yell. "Not fair!" he protested. "You cannot strike a man from the back."

Erendis swung the pillow at him again and caught him on the shoulder as he tried to dodge. "A boy who lies prostrate on the bed with his bottom in the air is asking to be a target. Besides," she said smugly as she plucked a feather from the bed, "you were rude and thus, I do not have to be fair."

"Tis a crime to assault the prince," muttered said prince as he reluctantly slid down from the bed.

"Report me then," Erendis retorted as she walked to the large cupboards where Eldarion's clothes lay, neatly pressed, hung and folded.

Now that, he would never do. Adar would not let him ride Mir and Naneth would probably make him sit through extra lessons with Anborn, the tutor he dreaded the most. The man was so white and wrinkled that Eldarion had once wondered if he was as old as the mysterious Ents he learnt about in the scrolls. Either that or they might actually be related. Eldarion wondered if Ents could marry women if they never found the Entwives. Poor Ents, to have no wives. They must be as miserable as his uncle Legolas. And that thought brought back into sharp focus his mission: he had to find his uncle a wife.

"Maybe if you found a better way of waking me up instead of beating me with a pillow," he sighed, pretending to sulk as he took the blue and silver brocade tunic along with its matching leggings and boots from her.

Ushering him to the bathing room, Erendis tested the water in the tub. It was hot, almost too hot. Just how Eldarion liked it. "The next time, I'll sing," she said. Clear grey eyes widened in alarm. "And I'll do it to the accompaniment of a lute." The last time Eri had tried playing the lute, the strings had snapped. Lady Linirel, Naneth's chief lady-in-waiting, had said the instrument had preferred a noble death rather than be used to produce sounds that sounded like wargs howling. As for her singing, it had made an elf literally weep. "As for your mother, she is with your father in the great hall."

Young ears perked up. "Has something happened?"

Erendis looked at her young charge. She had fallen in love with him at first sight and from the start, the prince had taken to her as she had to him. Eventually, the queen had removed her from her retinue and made her Eldarion's nursemaid. "A guest has arrived this day. I am not allowed to tell you more beyond that."

Worry wrinkled Eldarion's brow. The last time a mysterious guest appeared, his father had ridden off into far and distant lands with an army behind him. "Wash yourself first. A breakfast tray should be on its way soon and I'll take you to see your mother." Erendis smoothed back his dark hair and bending down, touched his nose lightly. "Do not let your imagination run away with you. Now, off with the clothes and into the tub. Be out in twenty minutes."

...

Eri had been right; he should not have worried. Having washed and wolfed down his breakfast in record time, he had tugged impatiently on her hand as she led him down the winding corridors at a maddeningly placid speed. He would have escaped, but Eri had a surprisingly strong grip. Still, she released him the moment he saw the guest and began squealing.

"Lord Gimli!"

"Uncle Gimli," the stout warrior corrected and then he had an armful of rambunctious and delighted child to deal with. "By Durin's beard, you've grown again." The boy was now almost at eye level with him.

"How is it that you have come?" Eldarion hugged the dwarf again and admired the fiery red beard with its warrior's plaits, each knotted with dark gems that never ceased to amaze him. _By the Valar, it is a sign!_ He clapped his hands in delight.

"Your uncle Legolas sent word of his visit and it has been too long since I have seen either him or you, or your beautiful mother. And then there's your father." Gimli waved dismissively in Aragorn's direction, his eyes twinkling. He spotted the prince's nursemaid, a fairly pretty girl who curtsied to him and he nodded at her in greeting. "We have but one day to get you to call me uncle."

Eldarion giggled and both his parents rolled their eyes in good humour. The friendly rivalry between Legolas and Gimli had shifted from the battlefield to Eldarion. Each endeavoured to make himself dearer than the other in the child's eyes and for that reason alone, Arwen sometimes said she should have another child and settle the issue. Aragorn had pointed out that instead of sharing the children, it was more likely that Legolas and Gimli would each try to win over both, thus compounding the problem. She found herself inclined to agree with him.

"Come on, sprite. I have much to tell you about the adventures I have been on…"

Looking around, Eldarion realized that Erendis had slipped away. When close friends came by, she usually made herself scarce, coming only to fetch him for his lessons and to attend to him at night when it was his bedtime. This time though, he would need her assistance.

"Our son is distracted," Arwen murmured as she and Aragorn strolled behind the pair.

"He will not be once Gimli shows him the mithril dagger and chainmail he had fashioned for him. What do you think Eldarion has on his mind?"

"Gimli's arrival has pleased him, even more so than usual. And I know that look on his face. It is the same one that Elladan and Elrohir have when they are up to mischief."

They turned to each other and Aragorn remembered Eldarion's words about Legolas' singleton status. The room had rung with her laughter when he had told her what happened. He could see that the same memory was going through his wife's head now. "You do not think…?"

The smile that appeared on her face still had the power to steal his breath. She was loveliness incarnate and he, a mere mortal, had this treasure to hold. "Oh, I think so. Indeed I think so." She tucked her hand into the hand he clasped around her waist and laughed softly. "I also think that this visit is going to be a very entertaining one for us and for Gimli."

"May the Valar help Legolas," Aragorn murmured, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Because we certainly will not."

...

It did not take long for Gimli to find out that a game was underfoot. When Eldarion squirmed and shifted in his chair while being told of Gimli's skirmishes with orcs, and Eldarion loved tales such as these in all their lurid glory, the dwarf stopped and demanded to know what was going on.

The room they were seated in was Eldarion's study. It overlooked a beautiful garden that his Naneth tended to and he personally fed the birds there every evening. Sunshine spilled in and warmed the heavy wooden table beneath their hands. Gimli touched the wood and nodded in approval. The craftsmanship was good and the wood extremely solid. Barring deliberate misuse, this would last generations. He returned his attention to the thoughtful young boy who regarded him seriously with eyes that were uncannily similar to his father's. Although there was more of the mother in the child, in mannerisms and carriage, the boy mirrored his father.

"Lord Gimli," Eldarion started, ignoring the latter's immediate correction to address him as uncle, "there is an important matter which I must share with you. Before that though, I need you to promise me that you will not let my Naneth or Adar know about it." Then, he waited.

Bushy eyebrows climbed questioningly closer to his hairline as Gimli paused. When it became clear that his beloved dwarf lord was not going to be forthcoming with such a promise, Eldarion sighed in consternation. "I need your word, please."

"I have to know more before I pledge my word that I will keep your parents out of it."

"It has to with uncle Legolas…"

"Go on. What more?"

"Well, uncle Legolas seems to need some assistance in getting himself a wife and I thought to help him."

It was a good thing Eldarion chose that moment to stare nervously at his hands, which were clutched tightly together on his lap. Otherwise, he would have seen that Gimli's eyes had all but bulged out of his head and that the dwarf had raised a fist and pressed it tightly against his mouth. When the boy looked up, Gimli pretended to cough when what he really wanted to do was howl with laughter.

"Aye, my boy. I give you my word I will not tell your parents. In fact, I will pledge to render you as much aid as I can in this matter." Aule himself must have put that thought in Eldarion's head, Gimli thought gleefully. The elf would never live this visit down, not if he could help it.

The little boy gave an exuberant whoop of joy. "That is exactly what I had hoped for. Thank you—" Gimli coughed again and Eldarion looked at him with concern. "Does anything ail you?"

_I may yet die of laughter, especially when the elf gets here. _"Nay, I am well. In fact, I do not recall being as happy in quite some time. And 'tis I who must thank you for allowing me to be a part of this."

"And all we need now is to convince Eri to go along with us. She's my nursemaid," the prince clarified when he noticed the blank look Gimli gave him.

"I know who she is, lad. You intend to marry Legolas to your nursemaid?"

Eldarion's mouth dropped open. He was horrified. "Absolutely not."

Gimli nodded with approval. Legolas was a prince of two realms and would need someone of equal stature.

"Eri belongs to me and I'm not sharing her with anyone. Not even uncle Legolas. She's too good for that."

Obviously children and adults had different ideas about what constituted one person being superior to the other. And while Gimli was no snob, he knew that Legolas' father prized notions such as social status. Those were realities that could not be ignored. But the child was still staring at him sharply and obviously needed to be pacified. "Agreed. What would we need her for then?"

Eldarion smiled. "I can hardly ask Naneth for a list of eligible ladies in court. Eri, on the other hand, would know since she has been here since I was born. And you, lord Gimli, have known uncle Legolas for a long time now. Between the three of us, I am certainly we can come up with some ladies who would find uncle Legolas agreeable."

The last time they had been to Aragorn's court together, all the ladies had found Legolas to be most agreeable, even the married ones. "Do you think it will be a difficult task, that many ladies would not take to him?" he asked carefully.

"I think it might be so," Eldarion replied innocently. "After all, Adar told me uncle Legolas has been trying to get a wife on his own but he has never succeeded. He must not be doing something right."

Another fit of coughing descended on Lord Gimli and it lasted so long that Eldarion felt obliged to pat the dwarven warrior hard on the back. "I must tell Adar to send a healer to you. Are you feeling better?"

Wiping tears of merriment from his eyes, Gimli nodded. He still did not trust himself to speak.

"We'll also need to convince Eri to help us. If I had gone to her myself she would have told me to mind my business. But since you are here, you can let her know just how lonely uncle Legolas is and that he really needs our help. She will believe you since you are his best friend."

"I thought your Adar was his best friend," Gimli croaked, still weak from the laughter.

"One can have two best friends. That's what Adar says." Eldarion would have said more but the sound of the door opening stopped him. "Eri! We must speak with you."

Erendis stopped in the doorway. Eldarion's face was flushed with excitement and his eyes shone as brightly as stars. She knew that look. She had seen that look before and she knew it did not bode well. As for the dwarf, he was redder than the roses in the royal gardens and the look in his eye was similar to that in Eldarion's. Eyes darting from boy to dwarf, Erendis stepped into the room and closed the door behind her.

Later, she would think about this moment and realize that she ought to have run instead.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_Thank you so very much for feeding my Muse with those reviews. Also, I'm open to suggestions. How would you like Legolas tortured by Gimli and Eldarion? Let's count the ways. *cackle*_


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